Poison in the Citadel by Kathryn Ramage

Frodo slept better that night than he had in a week. After swallowing two drops of the medicine the Master Healer had given him in a glass of water, he snuggled close beside Merry, shut his eyes, and didn't open them again until the next morning.

When he awoke to bright sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the curtains, Merry had gone. Gandalf brought a mug of tea in to him, and said, "Merry is making your breakfast. I hope you have an appetite for it." He regarded the hobbit with a curious expression that puzzled Frodo. "Did you have a good night?"

"Yes, very restful," Frodo said cheerfully and sipped his tea. "That potion of the Master Healer's worked wonders." He had not once tossed and turned in the darkness, as he usually did, and no fretful dreams of Sam had haunted his sleep.

"Merry tells me he slept here with you," Gandalf said with great delicacy.

"Yes, he did-" Frodo responded, then blushed when he realized what the wizard was thinking. He added hastily, "But it's not like that, Gandalf, not between Merry and me. It never has been."

"I didn't mean to pry."

"It's all right--it's only natural you'd wonder, after what I told you the other day about us both being- ah- how we are." Frodo tried to explain. "We're nursery-mates, you see, brought up together since we were babies. His parents looked after me after my own mother and father died. I've always thought of Merry as a brother and, well, hobbits might consider marriage and that sort of thing acceptable between cousins, but not brothers or sisters. We're too close to feel that way about each other."




He stayed in bed throughout that day. While Gandalf went up to the citadel, Merry sat with him to keep an eye on him and keep him entertained.

"Will you help me, Merry?" Frodo requested when his cousin brought him his luncheon on a tray. "If I'm forced to rest for very long, I may have to solve this mystery while I'm still abed."

"You know you're not supposed to do any investigating while you're ill," Merry pointed out. "Strider's forbidden it."

"He can stop me from going about and asking questions, but I can't help thinking about what I've learned so far, and what it means. As long as I'm lying here with nothing to do, I have to think about it, Merry--it keeps me from thinking of other things that can put me in a worse state." Frodo turned to his cousin with pleading eyes. "You know what I mean."

Merry did understand precisely what he meant. "All right, I'll help. Do you want me to go about and ask people questions?"

"No, not yet. Right now, I only want to look over what we've found so far. Perhaps talking it over will put everything together so that I can make sense of it. It's all a terrible muddle. I've got no end of suspects, and plenty of motives for murders. The problem is, there are people who might've wanted Carathir dead, but I don't know why they'd wish harm to his son. There are also people who might've wished Caradan dead, but they've no reason to want his father dead too. Only one or two people had motives to kill both. And who would have killed Bregilde, except the person who engaged her for her knowledge of plants and poisons to murder the other two?"

"Why don't we go through them all, one by one?" Merry suggested. "We'll be methodical, just you used to say we ought to be, and consider everyone. We can make a list."

Frodo had spoken of listing his suspects before, but this seemed the opportune moment to put the idea into practice. He'd put away the little writing-box he'd brought with him from Bag End in the drawer of the bedside table when he'd first arrived in Minas Tirith. The Red Book sat atop the table, barely touched; they didn't want to write their list in that, so Merry searched until he found an old memoranda book with empty pages. After Frodo had finished his lunch, Merry sat on the bed at his cousin's feet with the writing-box open beside him, inkpot open and quill at hand. He wrote in large, bold letters at the top of a blank page:

SUSPECTS FOR CARATHIR

"Who should we put down first?" he asked Frodo.

"Cirandil," Frodo answered. "With the death of his uncle, he's become very wealthy and head of what's left of his family line. Also, Carathir would have opposed his marrying Tharya, since she was intended for Caradan, and there's no one to oppose their match now."

Merry wrote this down. "What about Caradan? Could he have killed his father?"

"It's possible." Frodo considered the idea. "We haven't looked at his motives, since he's dead himself, but he was very much alive and right here in the citadel when his father was poisoned. He could've done it to gain his inheritance a little early, or perhaps his father did confront him about Ilsethe. After all, we only have Larengar's word that Carathir never spoke to his son before his death, and he might be mistaken. What if they did talk, and Carathir ordered his son to give Ilsethe up? If Caradan refused, could he have resorted to murdering his father to have the girl he wanted?"

"And then someone else killed him?"

"Yes, but why wouldn't they say so if they did? What was that person's reason? Well, put Caradan's name down, and we'll consider his murderers when we come them."

Merry dutifully put Caradan's name on the list beneath Cirandil's.

"Next, there's Broneron and the other expelled councilors. Broneron called Carathir a traitor, and might well believe a traitor deserved death. I need to know more about the rest of them before I can determine which, if any, also believed that, or if they thought Carathir was personally to blame for their expulsion and disgrace.

"Then there are those still in the King's Council." Frodo counted them off on his fingers. "Larengar. He quarreled with Carathir over Caradan. He tries to make light of it, calls it a 'difference of opinion,' but what if it was more than that? Would he poison his dearest friend over it?

"Imatibin. They quarreled often in the Council--which means nothing in itself, but he's so anxious to cast suspicion on Larengar that I can't help feeling he's trying to distract attention from himself. There must be a reason why. I've been told he had progressive ideas that Carathir, who was old-fashioned, disagreed with. Maybe he was working with Hilabar in a plot to see their new ideas win out, and Carathir stood in their way?

"Then there's Hilabar. Carathir befriended him and sponsored him into the Council, but they had strong differences about the management of the city's treasury. Hilabar has some keen plans to see Gondor restored to its former glory. He's a Man who likes to spend money, and he's eager to be keeper of the treasury to put all that gold to use. Could he have gotten Carathir out of the way to take his place?

"And we must put down Grangirtan. I've heard nothing against him, but he is going to be the keeper of the treasury. Strider told me so. If I can suspect Hilabar of killing his old benefactor to have the treasure of the city in his hands, I ought to in all fairness suspect Grangirtan too."

Merry chuckled as he wrote rapidly; Frodo waited for his cousin to catch up before he went on.

"Lastly, there's Bregilde. She'd been serving the citadel as a midwife and herbalist for many years, and may have formed all sorts of personal reasons for disliking Carathir ages ago that led her to aid someone else in killing him, or to poison him by herself."

"Now, let's consider the people who might've killed Caradan." Merry dipped his quill afresh and wrote across the top of a second page: SUSPECTS FOR CARADAN

"There's Cirandil, again. He loves Tharya and now that Caradan's dead, they can marry each other. Didn't you say Frodo, that nobody opposes them now--not even her father?"

"No, not even Larengar. He might've felt differently if he'd known about them three months ago, but he seemed to like the idea when I brought it up. I don't know whether or not he'd ever thought of Cirandil as a husband for his daughter before that. He behaved as if it'd never occurred to him, but perhaps he'd had similar ideas when he learned about Caradan and Ilsethe. If Caradan had refused to give up his barmaid, marry Tharya, and behave himself, Larengar might've decided killing him was the best way to break the betrothal and leave Tharya free to marry someone else. Or, if your idea that Caradan killed his father was right, Merry, Larengar could've killed Caradan for that reason. He'd be avenging his friend instead of his daughter--either way, perhaps he thought that a second death was preferable to the disgrace of an open scandal."

"So Larengar goes second on this list."

Frodo nodded.

"And who else? There's Tharya, of course. Her reasons for killing Caradan are just as good as her father's and Cirandil's."

"Do you think she knew about Ilsethe?" Frodo wondered. "Even if she didn't care a straw for Caradan, it must hurt her pride to learn how he'd treated their betrothal vow. She and Cirandil might've acted together, or maybe she did it herself. He was away from Minas Tirith when his cousin died, but she was here. Dressed as a maid-servant, she could go into the citadel kitchens and the Steward's Arms when everybody was busy. No one would notice another maid rushing about or recognize her.

"Also at the Steward's Arms, there's the tavern-keeper. If he knew that Caradan was dallying with his daughter while promised to another, he might've taken revenge."

"I'll put his name down," said Merry as he wrote, "but I protest. He's one of the friendliest, jolliest, most even-tempered alehouse-keepers it's been my pleasure to be acquainted with--and you know I've been acquainted with plenty of alehouses! I don't think he knows about his daughter and Caradan, and Caradan would really have to have done something awful to her to provoke her father to murder. She doesn't look like she's having a baby."

"You're probably right," answered Frodo, "but who's in a better position to poison a tankard of ale than the Man who works behind the bar? And we have to consider Ilsethe too. We don't really know Caradan's feelings for her. Maybe he did truly love her and would've defied his family for her sake. Or maybe he was only playing with her and making false promises. If Caradan intended to cast her off when he married Tharya, she had reason to want revenge too, and a good opportunity to take it."

"I see what you mean," Merry said, and looked over the lists he had made so far. "The tavern-keeper and his daughter have no reason to kill Carathir, and the only two reasons I can think of for any of the councilors to kill Caradan are if he discovered which of them it was and could give them away, or they were so zealous in their vengeance against his father that they struck him down too."

"The first is possible," Frodo replied, "but if Caradan did know or suspect who killed his father, why didn't he go to Beregond or Faramir and say something, instead of keeping quiet and going off with his friends to the tavern? The second seems excessive for anybody who isn't mad. I've seen no obvious madmen in this investigation, not even Broneron."

"If we discount the madman and Caradan knowing who killed his father, only Cirandil and Larengar are on both lists."

"Cirandil seems the more likely, with or without Tharya's help," Frodo acknowledged. "I can easily believe that Larengar killed Caradan over the matter of Ilsethe, but unless there was much more to their quarrel than he's admitted, I can't see him killing Carathir too."

"It makes my idea of Caradan committing the first murder more plausible," Merry said. "Or, if it wasn't Larengar who avenged Carathir's death, then it might've been Cirandil, or another friend or relative who doesn't dare speak for some reason."

Frodo brightened suddenly. "Merry, I've just thought of someone else, or two somebodies, who might want to kill both the father and son: Councilor Hilabar and Lady Imadene, and it has nothing to do with the treasury or quarrels in the Council. Carathir and his heir are dead, and Cirandil is the primary suspect. What if he too were dead, poisoned like them or hung for their murders? Aragorn says Cirandil is the last of that family, but what about Lady Imadene? She's a kinswoman of Carathir--a niece or cousin or something of the sort. I'm not sure of the exact degree of relationship, but they are related. She and Hilabar have two little boys, and a third child on the way. Do noble families of Gondor inherit through the female side?"

"Kings and Queens did in the old days," said Merry. "If Cirandil falls over dead next, then we'll have to consider them seriously."

"Very well then! Add them too. Now, for our last list. Who would want to kill the herbalist?"

Merry wrote: SUSPECTS FOR BREGILDE

"I haven't gone into the circumstances of her death as deeply as I should," Frodo admitted. "That's something to be done when I'm up and about again. Who would kill her? If she provided the poison or dispensed it for another person, one of the people we've already listed seems most likely. If that's so, then I think she must've been killed to silence her before I came to the city and started my investigation. She'd be a danger to whomever had engaged her. Or she might've committed suicide when she heard there was a King's Investigator coming, to avoid being caught and questioned, and giving her patron away. It's also possible that someone killed her to avenge her victims."

"You're probably right," Merry said, "but what if it wasn't one of those people? Her death isn't connected to the other two in any other way, is it?"

"No, not that I've discovered. That she provided the poison for the first two deaths is the only way I can make sense of the three together."

"Could she have had an enemy at the Houses of Healing? Herbalists and healers take vows to preserve life, but if we can believe she would go around poisoning people, why not believe the same of some other healer?"

Frodo gave the question some thought. "Lots of herbalists work around the poisonous plants in the herbarium and can gather leaves or berries to brew their own potions without drawing attention. Would one of them have a reason to resent her?"

"Maybe they learned what she was up to, and poisoned her as punishment for breaking her vows?"

"That's very good, Merry! Write that down, and we'll look into it. The herb-master Pahiril should be able to tell us how herbalists who misuse their craft to do deliberate harm are treated. As her master, maybe he saw to her punishment himself."

Merry chuckled. "I can't see him getting around to actually poisoning anybody, can you?"

Frodo grinned. "He'd be talking about all the possible poisons he could use and the history of each plant and the effects they had, and never get around to it. Nevertheless, if we're to consider every possibility, he must go on the list. And there's Methilde."

"Methilde?" Merry looked up from his notes. "Who's that?"

"Bregilde's great-niece. You haven't met her. By her own account, she was in Bregilde's rooms on the night the old woman died. Maybe there was no other visitor that night. Methilde might've put poison in the chamomile-and-ginger tea herself and left earlier than usual so she wouldn't have to drink it with her aunt. That's possible--put her on the list. Who else is there? What about the Master Healer?"

"Frodo!"

"You must admit, he has the best opportunities to poison anyone he likes. I only saw it myself yesterday. He could have poisoned me easily, twice over. I would take no drink from a stranger's hand, but the Healer had only to press a glass of medicine upon me and say 'Drink this.' I swallowed it without hesitation. I also took the sleeping potion he sent home with me without a thought. Anyone would do the same. Is any Man trusted more with people's lives? They would take whatever potion he gave them under the guise of medicine. He could give Carathir or Caradan a little bottle just like this one-" Frodo picked up the bottle of medicine the Healer had given him, "and tell them to drink it down at bedtime. They'd do it. And if Bregilde, who knew her poisons well, suspected him, he could get rid of her as easily! Perhaps, if she did have a visitor on the night she died, it was he."

"But why would he poison them?"

"I don't know. Perhaps he's gone mad."

"Now you're being ridiculous," said Merry, but they were both laughing. "Do you really want me to put these last three down?"

"It was your idea to consider the healers in the first place. We really ought to have another talk with the herbalists who worked with Bregilde, and see what they can tell us. At least, we ought to speak to Pahiril."

"I can do that for you, before you're out of bed." Merry wrote the names on the last page. "Has putting it all down like this made things less of a muddle for you?"

"It's given me some interesting ideas to think about." Frodo sank back against the pillows behind him. This exercise had tired him and he thought he would have a nap. "Leave those lists with me, Merry, and I'll look over them later. Perhaps the truth will emerge if I have it written out plainly before me."
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